


Earle's Burden

by Ales_P



Category: L.A. Noire
Genre: 1947, Abduction, Crime, Death, Discrimination, Drug Use, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fanfiction, Friendship, Gangs, Gen, History, L.A. Noire - Freeform, LAPD, Love/Hate, Noire - Freeform, Past, Police, Poor, Prejudice, Prison, Race, Racism, Rich - Freeform, Romance, life - Freeform, vintage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2016-05-19
Packaged: 2018-05-08 00:09:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5475683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ales_P/pseuds/Ales_P
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beverley Washington, a young lady manages her life of justice, racism, law, hate, love, crime and a ruthless cop called Roy Earle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

The Downtown L.A. morning sun pierced through the window of the bus and landed on Beverly’s forehead. She squinted her warm brown eyes and gripped the metal handrail tightly. 

The bus bent slowly around the corner of 1st Street and Beverley leaned towards the window and tugged on the metal wire above it. The sound of the mingling bell infiltrated the silence that homed the bus and eyes darted towards Beverly. She held her small head down and used her free hand to improvise a pleat in her long navy skirt. Her hand traced upwards to the white ribbon on her chiffon blouse and tightened it.

It was the start of a new year and the start of a new life for Beverley. She had given up everything trading the lively French Quarters of New Orleans just to be in the golden city of fame.

The rust engine of the bus jilted and the metal cylinder came to a halt. In her black pumps, Beverley scurried out of the bus and onto the hard concrete. She breathed a sigh of relief and wandered her eyes around the street, inspecting every little detail. There were rows of small shops, all open for business. Women in standardized clothing strolled up and down the street; their petty hands clutching their purses, while men strode with pride in their large suits and fedoras, wolf whistling and inhaling white rolls of sickness. 

Beverley swivelled on the heels of her pumps and faced the stony building across the street. Cars were aligned perfectly outside, navy uniformed men walking in and out of them. Figures in suits lingered in and out the building, exchanging nods and papers.

She raised her head. ‘Central Police Station’, was engraved into the washed out stone.

She took a step forward onto the grey street, not realising the oncoming car. A horn blew and she stepped back quickly, adjusting her skirt. The car drove past slowly. It was a red convertible- a Cadillac to be exact. Beverley had only seen one in her whole lifetime, at the parade back home down on Main Street. They seemed to be a second nature to LA, now that she saw them everywhere. In it sat a man in a salmon and grey suit. He wore a grey-scaled fedora on his head and a flat expression on his face. He turned to face Beverley and squinted his eyes before speeding up and turning into the car park opposite.

Beverley was more cautious of crossing the road now. She safely made her way across and into the police station. There was a receptionist booth filled with files, a black telephone and a large male officer who looked like he hadn't moved from that seat in a while. The floors and doors were hardwood mahogany and the walls were the same colour as the stone outside. The two staircases either side of the station were lined with the patriotic red, blue and white starred flags. 

Beverley walked up to the officer sitting up at the receptionist desk. "Hello sir." He looked up to Beverley.

"What can I do for you ma'am?" He asked.

"I'm here to speak with Captain Leary, it's my first day on the job." She said proudly. A smile cracked from Beverley's lips and she stared at the officer with anticipation.

"Oh yes, you're that new kid from New Orleans.” He said flipping through the register.

Beverley squinted her eyes at the word ‘kid’ and her stomach boiled. The last time she checked she was a full-grown woman in her 20s. But people thought different about her.

“Mr Leary-”

“Is right here!” Beverley shifted her head to the voice. A man in a dark brown suit strolled down the stairs. 

“Good morning, sir.” Her voice shook as she raised a hand towards. He took it and smiled widely.  
“You must be Miss Washington, the new employee, right?”

“Yes of course!” She smiled back. A trickle of sweat rolled down the side of Beverley’s temple and she quickly used her other hand to wipe it away.

“You look worried, Bev,” Leary paused for a second, “is it okay if I call you Bev? I mean, I understand if you don’t want—”

“No, no I’m not worried and Bev is fine sir.” Bev looked down at her feet. She could feel her face heat up at the thought of her new nickname. 

“Alright! Follow me.” Leary said as he began to stroll up the wooden stairs.


	2. Two

His office smelt of burnt wood, whiskey and aftershave. There were racks upon racks of newspapers and random leaflets on a wooden metal cabinet that stood beside the window. On the other side of the window stood a tall metal cabinet that only could be open with a key. ‘Must be very important’ Bev thought. On top of it stood a globe and on the wall above it there was a dismantled bookshelf and calendar that obviously hadn’t been changed in two months. The wallpaper was a murky green and the floor was made out of the same wood as he rest of the station. There were open boxes scattered around the floor, filled with random things. Bev observed every inch in the room. ‘Disorganized’ Bev thought. To her it looked like a dump, a hideaway for the last minute. 

She walked over to the wooden chair in front of his desk and sat down. To her surprise, Leary’s desk was nothing like the room. It was orderly, well except for the ashtray that was filled to the brim of cigarettes and one cigar. His Remington typewriter sat perfectly in the middle and a small lamp illuminated the keys. There was a small plant on the other of the desk and a small book placed right next to it. ‘But conserved?’  
“You haven’t been in your office awhile?” Bev asked before thinking. She immediately apologised. “I’m sorry if that came out disrespectful, I—”

Leary sat at his desk. “No, no you’re right. I haven’t. How would you know?” He squinted his eyes. “Have you been stalking me?” He asked sarcastically.

Bev let out a small half sigh, half chuckle. She pointed to the calendar. “It still says November.”

Leary shuffled his head, then looked back at Bev. “Ah, you’re observant?”

“I like to take in my surroundings more than others.” She admitted.

“I’m impressed.” Leary said smiling. 

Bev held her head down and smiled. 

Leary rolled in his chair to the metal cabinet and opened it. He pulled out some papers and handed her them to sign. It was the usual.

“Are you sure about this?” Leary looked up at Bev.

Bev paused.

“I’m ready to take my oath.” She signed the papers and passed them back to Leary.

He nodded his head. “Very well.”

Bev stood from wooden chair and walked over to the flag, placing her right hand on her heart. Leary followed her.

"Repeat after me," he said as he faced her," I, state your name, promise to protect and defend the constitution of the United States and to perform my duties with honour…"

"I, Beverley Washington..."

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me what you think please :)
> 
>  
> 
> I do not own any L.A Noire characters or anything from that franchise, this is simply true fan fiction. :)


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